End of the Beginning
by CIAChick
Summary: Lorelai's boots show up on her porch. Post-Wedding Bell Blues. LL. One shot.


**A/N: I was just going to add this as a post-ep piece with my others, but it kind of veered off course and got away from me, so this is the result. **

**End of the Beginning**

_The time between meeting and finally leaving is  
Sometimes called falling in love._

_-_Lisa Loeb, "Falling in Love"

Lorelai is never sure which part of movies she's liked the best. The beginning can be alternately thrilling or boring, taking a long time to introduce you to the characters. The middle is usually full of good parts, funny quotes and all the highs and lows of the plot, unless of course, you're watching a real piece of crap. The ending can be a resolution or a draw your own conclusions deal. Ambiguity, as Rory calls it. Lorelai doesn't like ambiguity. She likes things she can count on. And Luke is—_was_ one of those things.

It's been two weeks. Two weeks after she practically had a nervous breakdown at her parents' wedding, or rather, vow renewal, two weeks after she skipped out of work and wallowed in bed for days, two weeks of eating with Sookie at Weston's (she's sure she's gained at least five pounds from the two cupcakes she always managed to order) and two weeks after Luke declared it was "too much" and left her standing there in stupid Doose's, not knowing what to say. Two weeks and her yellow rubber boots, her Morton's salt girl boots show up on her porch.

She's late for work, so not knowing what else to do, Lorelai sighs and places them in the entryway to her house. Sookie is in a panic when she reaches the Dragonfly. Davy was up sick and she overslept and she's late starting lunch and she hasn't had time to make coffee. Deflated and antsy for her morning caffeine boost, Lorelai goes back behind the desk and restlessly sorts through the mail. Tapping her fingers against the counter, Michel gives her a look and she quietly slips outside, pulling her coat around her, the cold winter wind cutting her face and burning her eyes.

Hiking all the way back to her house, she meets and greets a few people along the way, noticing that they all still give her those pitying glances and Babette even waves her pink ribbon at Lorelai. Yes, the ribbons.

_In case of a breakup, I'll move. I'll close up Luke's Diner, I'll go far, far away, and that way you won't have to choose, okay? Every section in town can be pink._

Taylor, the kind man that he is, apparently overhead the conversation taking place in his market and by the end of the week, he was recruiting people for pink or blue ribbons. Michel had bought one as a joke and Sookie had nearly chopped his wrist off when she saw it.

Shaking her head, Lorelai lets herself back into her house and drops down in the entryway, pulling off her shoes. The rubber of the boots feels good in her hands, slick and sticky at the same time, and the bright color reminds her of one of the first raincoats she had. She would put it on and her pink boots and go jump puddles outside on the driveway until her mother figured out where she was and called her inside, scolding her, saying she was going to catch pneumonia. She admires them in the mirror in Rory's room, then slips them back off and sits down in the kitchen, waiting for the coffee to brew. She stares at the boots for a second, then switches off the coffee maker and is out the door again.

She realizes she's holding her breath as she crosses the town square. When she glances behind her as she stands across the street, she's sure people are pointing and whispering, regretting those stupid ribbons on their wrists. The way the sun hits the windows she can't really see inside, just the edge of table legs and chair legs, the slight movement of people, and hot plates being brought to tables. She imagines him, one of several pictures that keep her company at night. In this one he's wiping down the counter and he glances up as she comes in, a smile starting at the corners of his mouth. He watches her drop down in a chair or stool and listens bemusedly as she rambles on about her inevitably crazy day.

She opens the door and it's no longer a picture. He's real, not one of those characters she always loves and hates in movies. She loves them because they are the best parts of any man she has ever known and hates them because she knows they don't exist. But Luke, he does exist. And he may be about as close as anyone can get to one of those guys. He does look up as she comes in, but a look of slight shock presides over the smile she imagined. She decides she can handle that.

"Hey," she says softly, sliding onto a stool. She realizes that the noise of the diner has seemed to fade away and she's not sure if it's because she is so focused on him or because everyone's attention is on the two of them.

"Hey." He goes to refill some cups and comes back to pause in front of her. "Coffee?"

"Yes, please." Lorelai taps her fingers on the counter as he pours her a cup. "Mmm," she inhales, taking that first, wondrous sip.

"Are you here just for coffee?" Luke inquires and she's surprised at the question.

"Yes," she answers quickly, not thinking. "I mean, no." She gulps her coffee, it's hot and it scalds her mouth, leaving her tongue slightly numb. "I saw the boots."

"Yeah, sorry I didn't get them to you sooner. They waited and shipped them with my other stuff." Typical Luke stuff. This is what she expected for eight years, but not anymore.

"Your back orders," Lorelai replies, remembering it like it was yesterday. His long gray coat that she had bought him the week before, the hanger that's empty now. "How's the boat?" _Speaking of places that are empty_, she thinks. Her garage hasn't looked the same since he came to retrieve it.

"Coming along." Lorelai is tempted to ask where he moved it to, but doesn't. She squirms in her seat and it's not from caffeine finally hitting her bloodstream.

"They fit well."

"What? Oh." Luke nods, pretending to add something on his order pad so he can avoid looking at her. Lorelai doesn't look directly at Luke either, but rather the wall behind him. She can see him stealing glances at her every once in awhile, mainly when she sips her coffee.

"Yeah, the boots. They fit well." She repeats herself and immediately feels off kilter for having done so, like the conversation is getting away from her.

"Now you just need it to snow."

"You didn't believe Chris did you?" She asks suddenly, unable to stop herself. Luke looks up at her and their lines of vision finally connect. At first, Lorelai thinks Luke is going to look away, but he doesn't, his blue eyes hold hers.

"No, I don't."

"You don't? So does that mean you don't now? Or you didn't then?"

"Lorelai," Luke sighs, exasperated.

"Because if you think I'm going to—well, that was all over a long time ago." Lorelai can tell Luke is growing even more uncomfortable with the subject matter, so she stores it away for later. "Have you seen those stupid ribbons?"

"How can you not see those stupid ribbons?"

Lorelai chuckles, a low, soft chuckle and Luke cracks a ghost of a smile at her, sending a jolt through Lorelai. The constriction in her chest lightens just a little and she takes a deep breath, plunging in. "I'm glad you didn't leave. You know, like you promised."

Luke takes a long look at Lorelai, as if he can simply study her and tell if she's being sincere. Actually, Lorelai reasons, he probably can. "But I did leave, at the party-"

Lorelai cuts him off. "Luke?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for the coffee." She slides off the stool, taking her cup with her. His eyes are sad and it comforts her to know that she allows him to let his guard down, if just for a moment. _This is real._ She leans forward and lightly places her hand on his wrist. "I'm glad you didn't leave."

"I'm glad you're not scared." Lorelai nods and turns to go, but glances back at him. He's watching her now and she smiles.

She likes the end of the beginning the best.

_fin_


End file.
